


The Depths

by LikeSatellites, ScarlettSiren



Category: K-pop, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Pirate, Collaboration, Cuddling & Snuggling, M/M, Mermaids, Pirates, Sirens, maknae line ot3
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-19
Updated: 2018-08-19
Packaged: 2019-06-28 15:07:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15709689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LikeSatellites/pseuds/LikeSatellites, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScarlettSiren/pseuds/ScarlettSiren
Summary: Taehyung is sunlight as it filters bright and pure beneath the surface of the ocean. He is that moment when the rays and the water first touch. It’s a bit clumsy, when the sunlight dilutes itself to reach below, but it’s pure and warm and just right.Jimin is the part of the sea that isn’t meant to be seen. The part of the sea that sunlight usually doesn’t reach. And if that means he has to keep forcing himself to the surface, bones cracking and scales sloughing off into the rough wind atop the ship... Jimin’s willing to go there.(And then there is Jungkook, the Navy’s Golden Boy, who crashes into their lives like a roiling wave, dragging them down into the undertow with nary a warning. They can sink or they can swim... the only thing for certain is that nothing will ever be the same.)





	The Depths

**Author's Note:**

> LikeSatellites: I have been so terrified to venture into BTS fic fandom but having an awesome collab partner has helped ease this writing process so much. I've always wanted to write a maknae line ot3 and also wanted to write a pirate au, and thus...here we are. 
> 
> ScarlettSiren: I'm usually so wordy in my notes but for this I'm just going to say that it has been so fantastic working on this with Becca, and I'll let the fic speak for itself. You can expect it to eventually be rated E, of course, if you know anything about us!

It’s nearly noon, Taehyung figures, hands raised up parallel to the horizon as he squints at the sun. He counts the ridges of his knuckles before dropping his arms to his sides limply.

Nearly noon, which means Yoongi will be getting up soon.

Nearly noon, which means--

“ _Tae_!”

Hoseok, from his perch atop the Black Tear’s dark mildewed crow’s nest, waves his spyglass toward the port bow. “Your pretty fish friend is here,” he calls out, red hair whipping around his face in the wind. No matter how many times Yoongi tells him to tie it back, wear a bandanna or _something_ , Hoseok never listens. And so he always looks just like this: long, tan, angular face framed by wildly frantic strands of fire.

Taehyung springs down from the forecastle, the wet slap of his bare feet on the deck echoing across the ship, and he leaps up onto the slick rails of the ship. The soles of his calloused feet find the curve of the wood beams as he peers down at the sea. “Chim!”

The water lapping against the sides of the boat carries Jimin with it, and he allows it, floating calmly on his back. He raises two tiny sun-kissed hands flecked with reflective silver scales and waves. His hair is floating around his head in a pretty pink halo, but it drips down heavy to his skull when he swims up to bang a small fist on the wood beams of the ship. He whines, “Lemme up, _damnit_ , I can smell food from down here.”

“Don’t you just pluck fish out from under your damn tail and chomp?” Taehyung asks, lowering the longboat on its creaky rusted pulley until it drops over the slowly sloshing water beside Jimin.

“Ew, I have class,” Jimin retorts, voice ringing out high and bright, as he ungracefully throws himself out of the water and flops into the longboat, his tail hanging wild and nearly blindingly holographic in the sunlight. His tail always looks just a little bit different every time Taehyung sees it. Sometimes the fins are delicate and loose, unfurling like a long silk scarf. And sometimes they're terrifying, like a primitive stalk of pure muscle and sharp scale. 

Taehyung can feel the energy that whistles over Jimin’s bright scales with the wind from the sea. There’s a music to it. There’s a music to every part of him.

“So you...smash it against some rocks first?” Taehyung teases, yanking the ropes, watching as the sun melts the water away from Jimin’s body, taking his tail with it. The scales flake off one by one and fizzle out in the air around him, like scattered feathers being blown up in the wind.

Jimin luxuriates against the sun-warmed wood of the longboat as Taehyung tugs him up to the ship, his hip fins shifting in the open air to an orange coral color, like a sweet giant koi fish. The scales along his legs shift color to match, reflecting gold and deep orange and pale pink. The thin translucent webbing between his little toes wrinkles as he wiggles his feet in the air.

Taehyung ties up the rope to suspend the longboat over the portside deck, and Jimin rolls out of the boat in a heap of clumsy limbs. His legs come up behind his head, back curved with protruding notches of spine. For a mythical creature, he’s never been the most majestic of beings. He turns and rolls onto his back, his hip fins fluttering out against the floorboards as he kicks his legs straight.

“What are we eating?”

Taehyung waves his toes in Jimin’s face, poking at a patch of pink scales along Jimin’s jawline. “Yoongi’s not up yet, so we don’t know.”

Jimin squints up at the sun. “But it’s--”

“About noon, yeah, well, you know our Captain,” Taehyung sighs, dropping down onto the deck beside him, throwing a leg comfortably over Jimin’s waist. He noses in against Jimin’s deep collarbone and draws in a deep breath. “You smell so salty.”

Jimin turns his head, cheek squishing against the wood beneath them. His lips spread into a wide, goofy smile, eyes barely visible, and he pounds a small fist onto Taehyung’s chest. “I’m half _fish_ , you dumbass human.”

“And yet you eat fish,” Taehyung says, gasping, hand flying to his mouth. “How very _could_ you?”

Jimin smirks and traces a sharp claw at the end of his stubby little finger over the bare V of skin at Taehyung’s chest beneath his loose shirt. “I also eat humans. How _doubly dare_ I.”

Taehyung is in the process of mucking up a good comeback, but his thoughts are all jumbled by the bright sunshine reflecting off Jimin’s bare skin. All of it. Bare. He should be concerned about the glint off Jimin’s sharp canine fangs, but instead there’s only the sensation of warm skin.

And he’s really got one--a good comeback--really, he does, when Yoongi bellows from the captain’s quarters, “I’m fuckin’  _hungry_.”

His heavy wrought-iron door swings open against the wall with a resounding thud. Their captain steps out, soft golden hair pillow-rumpled, with baggy black linen pants hanging low on his narrow hips. There’s a plain black shirt balled up in his pale hands, and he struggles to yank it down over his head to hang loose around his thin frame. “Hoseok! Ho-- _Mother of fuck_. Tae, can we get Jimin some pants, please? No nudity on my deck.” He turns his head away from the sight of Jimin standing proudly, starkly naked, glowing bright and golden and warm in the afternoon sunlight. “Hoseok!”

“That’s a dumb rule, and a rule you have most certainly broken,” Taehyung retorts, pulling off his white long-sleeved shirt and quickly tying the arms around Jimin’s waist like a primitive skirt, wrist cuffs draped delicately over the crack of Jimin's ass. “Ta-da.”

Jimin grimaces down at the offending fabric, pinching the linen between his fingers. “One day you’ll let me live.”

“It isn’t me, Chim,” Taehyung replies, waving a hand over at Yoongi. “Blame our prudish Captain.”

“He wasn’t always so prudish.” Jimin teases the bottom edge of the shirt up his thick tan thigh and smirks. “Right, Cap’n?”

Yoongi rubs at his temples with his pale forefingers. “If there isn’t food in front of my face in two minutes or less, I’m throwing everyone overboard, especially the goldfish.”

“Excuse you, I’m reflecting the waxing crescent with its vibrant and fiery new-budding energy,” Jimin scoffs, just as Hoseok finishes clambering down from the crow’s nest, panting.

His hair is a mad nest of fiery strands that he half-heartedly combs into some semblance of neatness with his long fingers as he sprints over to Yoongi. “Captain, ugh, sorry, I got caught up. There’s something off about the sea today. The sky is clear and nearly cloudless, but the water feels abnormally...rough.”

Yoongi blinks blearily up at the wispy clouds, peaceful as they pass over the ship, and he wrinkles his nose in the bright sun. “Looks fine to me. Are we still on course for the East China Sea?”

Hoseok pulls his old brass compass from his pocket and fixes the thick bifocals hanging off the end of his nose. “Appears so."

There's a loud clanging as the door to the lower deck, the kitchen bangs open. Mingyu carries a cauldron-sized vat of rice and beans up the steps and out onto the main deck. "Someone grab the bowls from my head, please." 

Changkyun and Taehyung rush forward to snatch the wobbling, chipped ceramic bowls from where Mingyu had them perched atop his hat. "Smells... tasteless." Changkyun observes bitterly.

"Go ring some salt from your eyebrows then." Mingyu snips, dropping the pot down hard onto the deck. The wood planks give an uneasy groan. Yoongi often claims the Tear has her own heart, that the Tear owns them in certain ways, but it's never more true than when the boys abuse her like this, punching her body with scalding hot metal. Yoongi also claims that one day the Tear will punish them back for it.

The crew all emerges from their holes to eat. Two gunners always remain on shift for worst case scenarios, and there are a few mates always ready by the sails and the rudder. Again, worst case scenarios. But everyone else comes up, sits on barrels around the vat of rice and waits their turn to pour a helping and dig in. The sun passes slowly over them as they eat and then return to their posts, but Jimin and Taehyung remain on the deck, splayed out on their backs, soaking in the warmth of the sun, ignoring the slick layer of algae and kelp and salt beneath their heads and skin. 

"Mm, Tae?"

Taehyung blinks slowly and sleepily over at Jimin. "Hm?"

"You don't think I'd eat you, do you?"

Taehyung puffs out a quiet, low laugh. "No, Chim, I don't think you'd eat me."

"Okay, but what if you were already dying and bleeding out in front of me like all that raw meat that you are," Jimin adds.

"Are you trying to convince me that you wouldn't eat me or trying to convince me there might be an instance where you would be justified in eating me?"

Jimin giggles and tucks his face into Taehyung's chest. He feels so small like this.

"I wouldn't, even then."

"I'd let you."

Jimin slaps Taehyung on the forehead. "Don't. Be. Weird."

Taehyung laughs again and swats Jimin's hand away. "I'm not. If it was either I bleed out and die uselessly in front of you or I provide you with sustenance, I would provide you sustenance. Easy."

"You're the most bizarre human I've ever known," Jimin scoffs. 

There's a strange rumble across the sky, something like faraway thunder but also nothing like thunder at all. 

It's later in the day now, he and Jimin having drowsed in the sun for hours after eating, Taehyung's skin feeling nicely toasted. The cooler winds are coming in, bringing with them the scent of the sunset and the higher tides. 

"Did you feel that?" Jimin asks suddenly. 

"I didn't feel anything," Taehyung replies, heaving himself up to a sitting position. 

"Felt something," Jimin says, rising up to his feet, and walking unsteadily toward the ship railing. "You really didn't feel it?"

Hoseok and Yoongi emerge from Yoongi's captain's quarters, where they have their daily mid-day meeting about course changes and port arrangements.

Yoongi looks concerned, watching Jimin step uneasily toward the edge of the ship. "Jimin, do you feel something? I could have sworn...”

Jimin hops up onto the rail of the ship, the sleeves of Taehyung’s shirt the only coverage over his bare skin as he bends over to whistle down toward the waves. Everyone above the deck quickly clamps their hands over their ears. Jimin can produce many nearly indescribably beautiful sounds, but he can also produce sounds so shrill, so horrid that your ear drums burst bloody in your skull.

This sound seems more like an echolocator, something high and wild that could penetrate those unseen barriers that are really only unseen for humans. Jimin spins around, leans back against the railing with arms stretched out on either side, and grimaces. His chin, flecked with coral scales, wrinkles as his face scrunches up bitterly.

“The tides feel all wrong,” Jimin says, fingers clenching in against his palms and then back out over and over. “It’s messing with my vibrations.”

“Your vibrations, huh?”

“Tae, not the time,” Yoongi says, holding a palm up. “How bad is it, Jimin? Do we need to come about and circle back to Daegu?”

“I--can’t tell,” Jimin admits, tipping his head back and breathing in the scent of the sea. His eyelids flutter, pale orange lashes brushing the tops of his high cheekbones. “It feels wrong. Feels like something is fighting the Moon.”

Most of the time, Yoongi ignores Jimin’s talk of magic, preferring to rely on human senses, things he can back up with reason. But Yoongi has also _seen_ _enough shit_ (in his words) to know when to trust sources more mystically knowledgeable than his own.

“Do we stay on course or not?”

There’s a moment where Jimin looks ready to agree, and then there’s a great flash on the horizon. It’s like witnessing the sky cracking, like watching an arrow pierce and split a thick beam of wood, splinters spearing outward like petals.

“Impossible,” Hoseok breathes aloud, glasses slipping down the narrow bridge of his long nose. “The--the winds. And the air pressure and the--the--”

“Hoseok, please,” Yoongi mutters, slapping a palm over Hoseok’s open mouth. “I can’t hear my own thoughts.”

“We should keep going,” Taehyung insists, eyeing the rapidly growing storm as it circles black and terrible on the horizon. “This isn’t something we want to get near. The Black Tear is already in need of repairs after our last run-in with the Destroyer just two weeks ago. The gunner and mates on the lower deck were almost blown out by much larger, more technically advanced canons, remember?”

Jimin’s face scrunches up again, and he calls out shrilly toward the swirling cyclone of destruction. He keeps turning back and forth, as if unable to keep himself still, unable to focus on any one conversation. Like the ocean is trying to get his attention, refusing to let him not listen.

“Please warn us next time you’re going to--”

He does it again, more panicked this time. “Something’s...calling back,” Jimin croaks out, voice hoarser than before from having to reach his sound-waves so far. “I’m going to check it out.”

Taehyung reaches for Jimin’s arm, but he slips beneath Taehyung's wet fingers like a slick manta ray. “We can’t wait for you.”

“I’ll catch up,” Jimin says, leaning in to touch his lips gently to Taehyung’s cheek. “Go! Full speed ahead or whatever it is you say up here.” He gives Yoongi a half-hearted, teasing salute before arching and jumping backward from the railing.

“Wait, Jimin, my shir--” Taehyung cries, arms outstretched, listening to the sound of Jimin breaking the surface of the water. “My shirt…” His arms flop down back to his sides.

The ship rigger, Kihyun, tosses Taehyung the black velvet vest from his own chest. “Your nipples were looking painful. Like they were a pain for me. To look at.”

Taehyung smacks Kihyun on the shoulder, his large hand swallowing Kihyun's narrow bones. “Please, never mention my nipples again.”

“Agreed.”

“Seconded.”

“No, you’re third. Thirded,” Jihoon, one of the gunners, snips. “I’m going back down below deck. If it starts raining on me, I’ll melt.”

“I love when you make witch jokes,” Taehyung coos, running over to try to pinch Jihoon’s squishy cheek. Jihoon kicks Taehyung in the shin and slams the door to the lower deck in Taehyung’s face.

“It isn’t a joke,” Kihyun says, leaning in to Taehyung conspiratorially.

“What?”

Kihyun smirks and strides off to the sails, leaving Taehyung with Yoongi and Hoseok (Hoseok still fixing his glasses closer and farther from his eyes, as if the whole thing's an illusion).

“Captain, what do you think it is? That’s no natural disaster.”

Yoongi shrugs his thin shoulders. “In all these years at sea, I’ve learned that nothing I say matters. Sometimes it’s best to not ask questions.”

“But Jimin--”

“Will be fine. He knows this sea better than any of us combined, and we can never hope to catch up.” Yoongi lays a hand on Taehyung’s cheek, patting it like a patronized dog. “It’s also best not to give him commands. Sirens are rarely obedient, especially to humans. Especially to _men_.”

“And he’ll find us, right?”

“Remember when Holly went overboard off the coast of Hanoi?”

“Are you comparing Jimin to your poodle?” Taehyung scoffs.

“Do _not_ call Min Holly a poodle,” Yoongi huffs, jabbing a finger at Taehyung’s chest. “Min Holly is a better pirate than you’ll ever be.”

“And also a toy poodle,” Taehyung mutters, as Yoongi saunters back into his captain’s quarters and one again a door is slammed in Taehyung’s face.

“Oy,” Hoseok calls from the quarter deck, “a little help up here? I’m on the helm, so can you climb up to the crow’s nest? We need to keep an eye on that storm.”

Taehyung is fine with that order. Any way to keep his eyes on Jimin, though he’s nothing more than a speck of gleaming gold among the waves, and the water has grown darker and darker in just the last few moments.

Taehyung knows he has no reason to worry. Just as Yoongi said, Jimin has lived through lifetimes of danger in a way Taehyung will never understand. The politics, the peril of just dealing with other creatures like Jimin--Taehyung can’t even fathom. All Taehyung has ever known has been this.

He was born on the sea, and he’ll die on the sea. But he’s never known the sea with the same intimacy as Jimin. Or even as Yoongi. Their Captain has that same spark of knowledge in his eyes as Taehyung’s best friend. Yoongi will sometimes stand at the open window of his captain’s quarters and stare blankly at the open ocean like he can see things Taehyung and the others can’t.

The same way Jimin had looked as he cried out toward the storm.

Taehyung stares over at the dark sky on the horizon and wishes he understood. There will always be that distance between him and Jimin that feels like an endless open sea, but something in the air feels like change.

***

Jungkook stands at the bow of the Wings, and he does not miss the way the winds buffet harder at his face, whipping his hair out of whatever semblance of order he’d managed to tame it into hours before. The once-calm seas are beginning to stir, whitecaps cresting and breaking along the hull, though the sky remains suspiciously clear.

The Wings is a naval ship of the Republic of Korea, the Land of Morning Calm which he calls his home. Designed and built by the brightest minds in the country, it would have no trouble sailing through a storm, should they come across one. The only thing that troubles Jungkook is that simply does not  _see one_. The clouds above them are wispy and white, the sky a pale grey-blue. The sun hangs three-quarters to the horizon, its light waning in the lateness of the afternoon. It is only the ocean which churns restlessly, rocking the ship hard, as though something had agitated it from the depths.

He weaves through the ropes and lands on the forecastle deck effortlessly, taking stock of the crew. Many of the men are busy milling around with their usual duties, but Lieutenant Commander Namjoon is at the base of the main mast, scolding one of the greenhorn deckhands over his terrible knots. The boy scurries off with apologies and a tangle of ropes in his arms just as Jungkook approaches them.

Namjoon beams. “Ah, if it isn’t our Golden Boy.”

The moniker is, at times, a jab at his favored position, but from Namjoon, it only feels like a warm greeting. A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth, but he forces it away when his lips press together into a grim line as the ship rocks just a little harder than it should in this clear weather.

“I’ve noticed the winds seem to be picking up, as have the waves... but I didn’t spot any storms on the approach.” Jungkook says, his tone serious.

Namjoon seems to realize this isn’t just a conversation for pleasantries, and his smile drops. “If the sky is clear then there’s nothing to worry about.”

“I know that.” Jungkook mutters with a tad more disrespect than he’d intended. “By the book, of course. But it wouldn’t be the first strange thing we’ve seen out here. Just last week, there were those strange lights under the water in the Cheju Strait... and those scales we found on the banks at Kohung, which were a match for no fish or ocean beast in the archives.”

“Are you implying you believe these things are somehow connected? They’re all random happenstance, Jungkook.” Namjoon chides, and Jungkook suddenly remembers just how much rank and experience separates them. He feels small. “You see things at sea, sometimes. It can change you. But it’s important to remember what is real.”

Jungkook frowns, but he finds his voice again. “I wouldn’t say these things are connected, per se, but I would suggest they warrant consideration.”

Namjoon sighs. There’s movement up at the helm, and it calls his attention. “Consideration leads to investigation, to inquiry, to a whole mess of paperwork. Let it go.”

Jungkook can tell the conversation is over, but he defiantly sticks to his guns. He wouldn’t have brought it up if he hadn’t thought it worthy of attention.

“I’d like it noted in the log that I reported my concerns, even if you don’t plan to address them.”

“If you’d like. Regardless, it likely isn’t anything to bother the captain over.” Namjoon assures somewhat dismissively, his eyes still elsewhere. “If the winds worsen, perhaps.”

The officer’s distraction does not quell Jungkook. He tracks the other man’s gaze to see it has fallen upon the ship’s first officer, Commander Seokjin. He isn’t doing anything particularly worthy of watching with any sort of fervor, from what Jungkook can see. He stands at the helm next to Captain Yang, his shoulders squared at attention and his face attentive while the captain speaks. Neither of them seems to be bothered by the roughening seas as of yet, the clear sky likely easing any encroaching concerns. Captain Yang finishes his thought and Seokjin bows before he heads down the sterncastle steps onto the main deck.

Namjoon mutters some sort of dismissive farewell and tries to walk off, but Jungkook's hand at his elbow stops him.

"Sir, I... if my only concern had come from strange lights and unknown fish-scales, I wouldn't have brought it up."

"Brought what up?" Asks Seokjin as he approaches, grinning amiably at the two of them.

"It's nothing, sir." Namjoon says too-quickly, and the other notices.

"It must not be nothing if it has Jungkook concerned." He turns to the younger man, eyes questioning and smile patient. "Jungkook?"

"It's just... the waves. They seem... different, today. Something is off." He feels the reply lamely represents just what his worries are, but it's all the explanation he can manage to formulate under the scrutiny.

Jungkook has always been bold to act, timid to speak. It's what the higher-ups love so much about him, he thinks. He doesn't argue, generally... just does as he's told. But when there is a life at risk, he is always the first to move, the first to jump in headlong and damn the consequences--it's hard to be sure if it's a good trait, but it hasn't led him wrong yet. Jungkook only wishes he could speak what's on his mind without feeling that he makes no sense, like his mouth is filled with cotton, his words coming out in a jumbled mess of half-sentences and unfinished thoughts.

"The captain thought so, too." Seokjin says, then, and somehow it makes him feel a little better. Namjoon seems surprised. "Too great a chop for the wind, is what he said. And too great a wind for the clouds' sluggishness. But, there isn't much we can do. So, we sail."

Such a simple, yet poignant phrase.

What else can they do, after all? Prepare for a storm that the sky has given no warning of? Make for a port they've already set a course for? There is nothing left to do but sail, and so they will.

"Well, if the captain's noticed." Jungkook mumbles, resigned and assuaged all at once. There's nothing for it, really. He feels like an idiot for bringing his dramatic outburst to Namjoon. It's one of those times where he feels his age, feels just how his rank is too big for him, ill-fitting, too great a role to perform. He is a child wearing his father's too-large boots and coat, pretending to be something he is not. Playing dress-up. He clods around in shoes too big to fill, tripping over his aspirations.

"He'll have his eyes on it." Namjoon speaks up, clamping a large hand on Jungkook's shoulder. It's bracing, but it makes him feel small once more. "I really need to stop forgetting you've got such good instincts."

Seokjin turns to his second officer with a chiding look. "Were you doubting our Golden Boy _again_ , Lieutenant Commander?"

Namjoon groans. "It wasn't _doubt_ \--"

"Just last week, he caught out those merchants with their illegal trade practices, when you were prepared to let them go--"

"I hadn't found any evidence--"

"But Jungkook did!"

Namjoon has a look on his face like he's heard all this before; weary, irritated, resigned... but there's an admission of his mistake hidden under all that annoyance, and he turns to Jungkook like he's the only one who can save him from another verbal reaming.

"Yes, he did. You did." He stares at Jungkook with a sort of desperation, begging to be spared. "I apologize. One day I will remember that you aren't some paranoid cabin-boy who's never seen the inside of a ship. I shouldn't hold your youth against your character. You've more than proven your worth."

Jungkook feels something warm in the center of his chest, and Seokjin is grinning victoriously, arms crossed in front of him.

So many of the officers he'd met at the academy seemed to spend every waking moment breaking down their students, pushing them too hard, trying to make them give up. Encouragement comes in many forms, and Jungkook is no stranger to being told he was useless, that he would never amount to anything. He had turned those words into fuel, had bettered himself... but it had left him with little confidence. Had he truly improved, if those who dragged him down would never acknowledge just how far he had come?

Namjoon and Seokjin are different. They don't lord their titles over their inferiors like everyone else does. They demand respect, but give just as much in return. Jungkook's never been able to work out just what kind of men they are. They seem to have known each other for some time, always sharing whispered conversations and furtive glances, as though they are both in on some joke. Seokjin is stringent only around the captain... with Namjoon, he seems to relax as though he knows the other will not judge him, as though the respect he has for him is not contingent on just how sternly he wears his rank.

Jungkook wants to be like that. He wants to be the kind of officer that people like him can feel comfortable coming to for guidance. But above all, he just wants to be  _good_ , to _do_ good. 

He thinks that around superiors like them, he can be that kind of man.

Jungkook realizes too late that he hasn't spared Namjoon from being berated. Seokjin chides him, going on and on about Jungkook's accomplishments. It's kind, but embarrassing. Jungkook's face turns red and he finds himself backing away, waving off a slew of praises. Seokjin just excuses them, nudging Namjoon toward the sterncastle to continue their chat. Jungkook runs a hand through his hair and shakes his head... he's certain they're no longer talking about him, to his relief, but he doesn't care to make sure.

Jungkook is left standing alone on the main deck, and he suddenly feels isolated. He senses as though a vague tremor of foreboding looms over them, and he is the only one to pay it much mind. The captain had noticed, but nothing has been done. Jungkook had gotten through his classes on his intellect but field tests he blazed through on intuition... he never fights a gut feeling. He knows something is there; that voice inside him urges him to prepare, though he doesn’t know what for. His skin buzzes with the need to fight or flee, but there isn’t anywhere to direct that energy. The irritation of not being believed or trusted chews at his subconscious, and the sole of his boot finds the mast just gently enough that he doesn’t break a toe.

Jungkook sighs as his eyes find the horizon once more. He supposes things could be worse... He could have been stuck being relegated to menial jobs like serving the gruel and swabbing the decks. He’s the youngest officer of rank aboard, after all, and those things roll downhill, as it’s said. But he’s also the Navy’s pride... having achieved the highest scores on record at the academy, he was recommended for one of the top patrol ships even before he had graduated. It earns him ire and clout both in spades, but only the surly older deckhands seem to resent him outwardly. Namjoon and Seokjin have both been like mentors to him, that is... when they can find the time. Captain Yang is often called away on official Navy business, attending meetings with the fleet Admirals and leaving his commanders in charge in his stead. They have a lot on their plates, so he supposes it’s understandable that every crewman’s concerns can’t be examined as though they were of the utmost importance.

When the ship rocks again, harder this time, Jungkook hopes for once that his instincts are wrong, though they seldom are.

It is less than an hour that passes when a swell raises them up, rocking the ship to and fro and knocking several of the crew on their rears. The clouds still glow golden in the afternoon sun, soft and white, but the sea roils beneath them as though in protest of the ship’s presence. It isn’t a storm… not like any they had ever seen… and the crew scrabbles about in confusion.

For a long moment, everything is still and quiet. There is no reaction from anyone. And then, a massive wave seems to crest up from nowhere and break against the starboard hull, pitching the ship violently to one side.

Clear sky be damned, the time for action was now. 

“Men, lifelines! Batten down the hatches and secure the canons!” Namjoon begins shouting. Seokjin is in front of him, still frazzled where he’d been thrown against the sterncastle steps and barely managed to catch himself. While he outranks Namjoon, the latter has always been more level-headed in situations such as these. The politics were more Seokjin’s specialty than this... this was where Namjoon thrived.

“What of the sails, sir?” One of the deckhands, whose name escapes Jungkook, shouts over the cacophony of panic on the deck.

Namjoon looks up. The winds haven’t picked up much, and they’ll have better control of the ship with them open. “Leave them for now!”

The deckhand nods and secures his lifeline before taking off to help the others with the tarpaulins. Jungkook makes for the main mast, grabbing one of the lifelines roped around the cleats and tying it about his waist. The boy from before is there, the one Namjoon had been scolding. He’s hastily looping the knots to the cleats, hands shaking with panic. Jungkook takes the rope out of his grip and finishes the knot before fastening it around the boy’s waist.

“Get whatever cargo you can into the hold, then get below yourself.” Jungkook tells him. He nods up at him with wide, trembling eyes before bolting away.

The crew staggers when the ocean surges up again, pitching the ship to the opposite side. The sudden movement has several of them lose their footing, the lifelines the only thing sparing them from tumbling over the rails and into the unforgiving waters. Jungkook snags the ratlines before he can lose his balance, narrowly twisting out of the way of an empty food barrel as it’s flung past him. It smashes against the rails and breaks apart before falling into the churning sea.

Captain Yang is at the helm, fighting the waves with all his might. He puts every ounce of his strength into holding the ship steady, but when another swell knocks him off-balance and onto his rear, he is forced to release the wheel. It spins frantically, the ship pitching once more as the rudder is allowed to follow the will of the waves. He thinks they might capsize... but then, the wheel stops.

Namjoon has flung himself onto it, throwing the entire weight of his body into halting it. The ship staggers before stabilizing again, just as Seokjin joins him, the both of them working together to turn it. They snarl with the effort of it, but eventually manage to undo the damage. It takes the both of them to hold it steady when another crest rocks the ship.

Namjoon opens his mouth to say something, but he’s abruptly cut off by the deafening crack of lightning. The clouds above them, wispy and white, now churn in a greyish circle before darkening near to black in all but an instant. The sky opens up: fat drops of icy rain begin pelting them, and he and Seokjin exchanged soaked, panicked glances.

“The sails! Men! Now!” The latter screams above the roar of wind and rain. The breeze has picked up into buffeting blasts, now, in what seemed like a mere instant... the masts creaking and sails as full as they could manage.

There are four crewmembers beneath the main mast where Jungkook is, and three at the fore. Only Namjoon, Seokjin and Captain Yang stand below the mizzen mast, already well occupied with tasks of their own. He scales the ratlines as the sail begins folding up, the men having begun to reel it up. The wind once caught by the sail now assaults Jungkook fully, and he nearly loses his grip on the slick ropes. He can see the foremast going up, now, too... but no one is handling the mizzen mast.

Lightning crackles across the sky above him, illumining the clouds in a whirlwind of light and shadow. The ship rocks again, and he can see Namjoon and Seokjin struggling to keep their footing while fighting the helm. The captain has gotten to his feet and grabbed for the lines himself, but hauling up a sail is not a one-man job. The sail goes halfway up before halting, the wind tangling up one of the ropes on the yardarm. The mizzen mast creaks in protest as the winds lambaste it, now the only sail still open. It is too much of a burden... any longer and it will snap.

Jungkook stares at the distance between the main and mizzen masts. He watches the ratlines whip wildly through the air, senses the direction of the wind. The rain stings in his eyes, but he ignores it. When he feels it shift, feels the gust from behind him lift the fringe from his face, he jumps.

The leather gloves of his uniform are his only saving grace as he manages to snatch the ratlines of the mizzen mast, the cyclonic squall throwing him about like a ragdoll and all but tangling him up in the lines. He slides his foot into one of the holds to secure himself, throwing his weight to untwist the rope. The ratlines settled some with his added weight, and it takes him only seconds to clamber up to the yardarm and yank the offending rope free. Below him, the captain begins pulling at the lift again, hauling with all his might, though his grip is slipping.

Jungkook takes one of the sail ropes and lets go of the ratlines, sliding down to the sterncastle deck. The wind swings him about like a pendulum and he’s forced to land with a clumsy tumble before getting to his feet. He runs over to take the line trailing behind the captain and helps him pull. The two of them manage to get the sail secured and the rope knotted around a cleat before the yardarm and mast break with the pressure.

Namjoon and Seokjin have spotted him, but they’re still fighting with the helm. The ship is canting over to one side, and they are desperately trying to keep her from capsizing. The two of them seem to glance past him, however, a look of abject horror on their faces. When he turns to see just what it is they’re looking at, he pales. There’s a wall of water coming right for them, near as tall as the clouds. The captain shouts an order, but the wind is roaring in his ears too loud for him to understand it.

The wave crashes down upon the ship like the wrath of an angry god. The captain holds to the mizzen mast lines for dear life, but Jungkook is swept off his feet, the swell of water on the deck deep enough to send him hurtling into the stern rails. For an eternity of a moment he feels as though he’s suffocating, sea water and rain water both assaulting him. He manages only choked, gasping breaths through the chaos before the water level falls and he can gulp down a full breath of air.

Seokjin and Namjoon are watching him from the helm, their faces terror-stricken once again. He doesn’t realize why until he looks down: the lifeline looped around his waist is still secured, but the entire length of rope is tangled around his lap and legs… it’s no longer attached to the mast. He meets their gaze, and he’s sure he looks terrified, too.

Another massive swell assails the ship. Seokjin and Namjoon don’t think; they both lunge for Jungkook, trying to grab the end of the rope trailing just a little ways in front of him on the deck. The helm spirals out of control, letting the rudder, and therefore the ship, be moved freely by the waves. The Wings pitches violently to one side, the yardarms nearly touching the water. Jungkook is sent tumbling along the sterncastle deck until he slams into the rails. He scrabbles for them for one fleeting second before he plummets over.

He thinks he hears Seokjin scream his name, but everything is too loud… the wind, the rain, the creaking of wood and groan of the anchor chains… that is, until he hits the water. He is swallowed up by the inky blackness, and in that moment, everything goes silent and still and dark.

 ***

Jimin actually doesn’t mind the ache in his body that comes when he shifts. He doesn’t mind the way his bones break and shrink and twist and reform to create him anew in the water. It’s a nice reminder every time. A nice reminder to never get too comfortable.

The odd and frustrating fact of the matter is Jimin doesn’t and shouldn’t belong anywhere. He belongs neither to the sea nor the land nor the air. He’s merely a creature that operates under the power of the moon, pulled along by the tides like the waves themselves.

Discovering Yoongi was...something. Something Jimin considers monumental. He hasn’t decided in what connotation just yet. Monuments aren't always erected to honor great things. Yoongi always brought something new. Something horrible. Something wonderful. Just...something new.

But Jimin always knew he had to return to the sea. He can make himself look like them, like Taehyung, with his deep golden skin and strange but captivating square-mouthed smile, but Jimin isn’t really like Taehyung at all.

Things in the sea call to him where Taehyung will never hear. He cannot hear. In fact, Jimin would fear for him if he could hear the things Jimin hears constantly. The Earth, shifting and groaning beneath their ship, the heat of magma bursting to life through its cracks and all the cries of the other creatures that share Jimin’s home as they spend their days eating and trying not to be eaten.

There aren’t many (if any at all) humans Jimin would trust with the secrets of the ocean. Not many (if any at all) could handle them. Yoongi has seen and heard enough in his years as pirate onboard reckless ships to know how lucky he is not to really know anything at all. He's put in a solid effort to remain as ignorant as possible, which Jimin admires.

And so Jimin knows, as he allows his bones to break and shift beneath his skin again, scales piercing through to coat his body and guide him through the waters quickly--he knows that when the ocean calls him, he must listen.

From above, it had seemed so far: the storm, that is. But from his position now, guiding his body beneath the surface along with the currents, Jimin can feel the storm like it’s right there. Right in front of him. There are schools of fish swirling beside him, hoping he isn't a predator. Normally he would be, but he's already stuffed full of cooked rice and beans. A darker figure swims up beneath him, eyeing Jimin to see if he's edible, but Jimin sends out a harsh blast of sound, and it jolts away. 

The ship beneath the eye of it all must be really taking hard hits. Jimin can barely steer himself with the madness of the confused currents tugging him this way and that. If anything, it feels like the origin of the storm is here, deep below the surface, below the ship itself. Which should be impossible. Storms brew in the sky.

He soon breaches the surface of the water a mere hundred meters from the ship. There are pieces of it, shattered off from the waves or the wind, and Jimin watches them float past him, as if trying to escape the storm also. Nothing seems all that out of the ordinary. It’s just a storm at sea. Rough winds and rough waves and rough currents. But it’s all concentrated above this one ship. Like a curse. Something unnatural. Or maybe just natural in a darker part of the sea.

Jimin’s heard of the ocean picking fights with pirate ships before. Protesting their gunpowder and violence. But the ocean is also fickle. Rarely likes to get involved in human business. And, as Jimin squints through the swirling dark clouds, this isn’t a pirate ship at all.

It’s a naval ship. And Jimin is positive he’s never heard of the ocean punishing the navy. He's almost certain there's an unspoken agreement between the government and the forces that rule the sea, making it harder for illegal ships but never truly punishing the armed forces. 

He’s about to turn around and swim back. The voice that had called to him through the tides hasn’t spoken since he got close to the storm. It’s frustratingly suddenly silent.

Why on Earth did you call me here. Jimin couldn't give a fish's ass about the human government. Couldn't be bothered to. If they knew about him, he's sure he'd be a marvelous tourist attraction or perhaps a great evil spectacle to be purchased.

There’s a splash, and Jimin braces for a cargo crate of gunpowder to hit the surface, but the splash is much too gentle. Too small.

A human splash.

There’s barely a cry that Jimin can hear, but he senses it. When the ocean reaches up and catches that human, cradling him in its fickle, dangerous arms, something cries out to him.

So he swims. Into the storm, towards the drowning human, like a fool. His small body fights against the waves and strong undercurrents, tail lashing out harder and harder to steer him and keep him at the surface. 

What does he need with another human? He’s already got a much too large collection of them around him. And what are they good for? Feeding him so he doesn’t have to smash fish against rocks?

But Jimin is moving anyway. He positions himself just beneath the human in the water and swims up to coil his arms around him.

He feels so odd. Thick with muscle but still so delicate. Where Taehyung and Yoongi are lithe and narrow, this human is broad and heavy. There's meat on him that doesn't come from living on unsalted rice and canned beans. This human has been protected. Sheltered. 

But his face, relaxed in near-unconsciousness, is so sweet and gentle. So unlike any face Jimin’s ever seen. Like some kind of land creature, soft and plush and kind.

Untainted. Innocent.

Jimin won’t let the ocean have him.

Not yet, at least.

It’s harder to steer and swim without his arms, but Jimin doesn’t want to let go of the drowned human, for fear the ocean will come and claim him back in protest. There’s no way he deserves it. No way.

The Black Tear isn’t nearly as far away as Jimin had figured it would be. _So much for full speed ahead_. Idiot humans. Idiot _Tae._

No sense of self-preservation. For pirates, Yoongi’s crew is unnaturally selfless. Sentimental. Who names their pirate ship after the vulnerable human act of crying? Only Yoongi, the stupid human sap.

It’s almost as if they’d waited for him. While pretending not to. How passive aggressive. And yet how sweet. Ugh, _humans_.

And Jimin is no better than them at the moment, as he calls up to the deck: “Tae! Tae, help!”

A crowd forms at the edge of the ship, everyone clambering at the railings to see what the commotion is about. A few mates help lower the longboat because they trust him. He could be hoisting a sea monster up aboard their ship for all they know. But Taehyung has always been so trusting. He looks only slightly frightened when Jimin flops out of the longboat onto the deck of the Black Tear, cradling an unconscious naval officer in his arms. And maybe it’s Jimin who should be afraid. For having heard a call he’s never heard before. A call he’d felt compelled to answer. A call that led him to this drowned rat of a human, currently being pawed at and resuscitated by the ship doctor, Changkyun.

“He’ll be fine. Just swallowed too much water,” Changkyun says, as the human rolls over and coughs up the sea onto the deck of the ship. “As you see.”

Yoongi steps out of his quarters, looking as suspicious as he should be, his expression dark and wary. “Jimin, what did you bring onto my ship?”

Jimin rubs at his tired limbs, scales feeling too tight, refusing to melt away in the open air.

“I don’t know.”

 ***

  _Jungkook feels his skin buzzing with excitement and nervousness. He’s aboard a Navy training vessel, and it’s the final day of field tests. The other potential graduates look either bored or ready to hurl. It’s easy to tell whose family money got them here, and who made it by their hard work._

_They’re being tested on all sorts of things, mostly standard fare... he doesn’t remember how it happens, but he knows there’s some cocky upstart manning the lateen sail while Jungkook is holding to the mizzen mast ratlines, checking something over. There’s a commotion below him, a startled shout calling his attention._

_The lateen yard swings around, swoops low and barrels right toward where the captain stands at the helm. Jungkook doesn’t think: he jumps from the ratlines, lands on the deck and tackles the captain to the ground. He’s sprawled out on the sterncastle deck, but Jungkook managed not to put any of his weight on him. He’s up in an instant, running for the errant yard that’s still careening back toward the stern._

_He can’t possibly stop it barehanded; it easily weighs five-hundred kilograms. Jungkook spots the mizzen brails dangling off of it and snags the end, dives for the largest cleat within arm’s reach and loops the rope around. Metal and wood groan in tandem as the rope snaps tight, halting the lateen sail before it can knock several crew members over the rails. His arms ache with the effort as he knots it, the screws nearly pulling up out of their sockets from the force._

_When he stands, he’s greeted by stunned stares. The first and second officers are helping the captain to his feet, and though he looks only mildly inconvenienced, the officers’ expressions are stricken with terror, as though they cannot believe someone had the gall to literally shove their captain to the ground as though it were a fleeting thought._

_But the captain just clears his throat and brushes off one of his lapels before looking Jungkook over._

_“Your name, young man?”_

_He swallows. “Jeon Jungkook, sir.”_

_He appears to consider this for a moment before nodding. “Very well. You will graduate with the title of ensign by special order, and I’ll have you recommended for the best in our fleet. You may have your pick of them. As for you...”_

_He turns to the student who’d let the lateen sail go, who had nearly injured or potentially killed several officers. “I had best not see your face again. Consider this your expulsion.”_

_Jungkook’s ears are ringing. He isn’t sure he heard him correctly. An ensign? Him? Already? His pick of the best ships in the fleet? He must have been dreaming. All of that for a split-second decision he was sure anyone in his position would have made?_

_But they hadn’t, had they? How many students, how many officers, had stood there paralyzed with panic while it had happened? Every last one of them. All but him._

_He makes his way to stand by the helm, the captain giving him an approving sort of smirk. He can’t help but smile to himself, for all his work finally paying off. He feels lighter than air. And then... then he feels heavier than lead. The deck fades away from beneath his feet and he’s floating, falling, crashing into the icy water. Everything is dark and frigid, and he feels as though someone is pulling him, taking him by his wrists and pulling him under. He can’t breathe. But then, there’s warmth. Heat. Light. He fades in and out between his world and the next, straddling the line of consciousness for what could have been minutes, hours, days. And then, he hears voices... one a soft, melodic tone and the other as deep as the ocean. He feels hands on him again, too many hands… he has no idea how long it’s been, but suddenly everything is too bright._

Jungkook wretches, hacking up seawater until his chest heaves and his lungs squeeze tight. When he opens his eyes, he realizes he aches everywhere. He’s somewhere unfamiliar... but he’s on a ship. He can hear the way the old wood creaks, the way it rocks to and fro beneath him in the gentle seas. Perhaps the ocean had calmed. Whatever storm had overtaken the Wings had not followed him here. Where ‘here’ was, however, remained to be seen.

He blinks away the bleariness in his eyes, and his vision clears just enough to make out the face nearest him; tanned, handsome, rounded-soft features. His expression is assessing, concerned. He looks him over as though he means to find something wrong. Jungkook squints, glancing around. There’s a semicircle of people surrounding him; they look like neither fisherman nor merchants, and they are _certainly_  not Navy.

“Pirates!” Jungkook hisses, scrabbling away along the deck. He’s halted by something sharp and slick at his hands, but his back collides with something that feels decidedly human.

He turns to see a boy… or, what he thinks may be a boyish figure, at the least. His eyes settle on a face too ethereal to belong to any man, though it takes him several seconds to notice the speckling of scales which trail up his--it's-- _his_  jawline to meet ears which fan out in the shape of fins. His gaze travels lower, finding holographic scales litter nearly every inch of him, and from his waist sprouts what can only be a tail. Jungkook is sure he is hallucinating, but the flesh and scale beneath him feels real. It grates along the flesh of his palm like sandstone when he pulls away, and he lets out an involuntary grunt of pain.

“You… you’re a--a mermaid--” His eyes flicker up to the creature’s bare chest and it-- _he_ \--hardly has the chance to look offended before Jungkook amends, “Merman! Mer...person! A… a merfolk!”

“Mm, he’s eloquent.” One of them jibes. Jungkook’s shock-stricken face snaps to him, now melting into fear. The pirate leans forward, a boxy sort of gloating smile on his face. The sword hilt at his hip gleams in the sunlight, and Jungkook doesn’t think… he spins, snatches the blade from its scabbard and twists away from the group of them, brandishing it between them.

He vastly overestimates what he’s capable of in his condition: he staggers, nearly falling, though he manages to catch his footing just in time to train the sword on the man who immediately lifts a hand in his direction, the one with the soft features and tanned skin. Whether he means to help or harm him he cannot say, refusing to give the concern in the man’s expression more than a passing consideration. It stands to reason that he is the ship’s doctor, but Jungkook is far from reasonable in this moment.

“Stay back, villains!” Jungkook snarls, blade shaking as he points it toward each of them, taking an uneasy step back whenever one of them moves closer. “I’ll not let you have my head just yet.”

The one with the boxy smile glances down at his belt, raising an eyebrow as though impressed. The comment catches him off-guard, however, and he scoffs. “You’re… joking.”

Half a dozen pirates and a fish person blink at him in complete and utter confusion before bursting into a chorus of laughter.

Jungkook feels the fight flow out of him like sails losing the breeze. All the air leaves his lungs and his chest goes tight again. He drops his sword arm, but he doesn’t relinquish the blade.

“Stop it!” He shouts, and there’s a sort of desperation there that silences them dead. “What about… what about the rest of them, then? The Wings? My crew, did you… are they--?”

“We haven’t touched your ship.” Spits the one with pale hair and a guarded expression. Judging by the way every eye turns to him, he must be the captain.

“We never even saw it, just that strange storm on the horizon.” Adds the man with hair red as fire. He cocks his head to regard the merman, though he’s still trying to keep an eye on Jungkook and his stolen sword.

“The ship was still afloat when I left.” The merman says, his tone soft but somehow indignant. “I only saw you in the water. The ocean called to me, and I found you.”

Jungkook’s head spins. He lunges for the rails, but passes the longboat, which surprises the pirates. Instead, he hangs off the side of the deck and desperately searches the horizon for some sign of the Wings, the storm… anything. But the weather is clear, the clouds the same wispy-white as before… and even the ocean has calmed. The sun, however, now begins to sink beneath the waves, throwing swaths of orange and pink across the sky. His frustration mounts as he stares off into the barren distance, his grip clenching white-knuckle on the hilt of the saber as he spins around again. He’s pointing it at the merman, now, fury and terror both at war in his eyes.

“Where? Where are they?! Where did you take me from?”

“Jimin--” The captain and the pirate whose sword he stole say at the same time, but it’s the latter who glances worriedly between the two of them, looking as though he’s about to step in regardless of his lack of a weapon. Before he can, however, the merman reins in his own panic and lets out a whistle, low and melodic and sweet.

Shoulders loosen. Grips grow lax. Jungkook feels an eerie sense of calm fall over him, as though a switch has been thrown in his mind. He drops the sword and it clatters to the deck.

“Now… let’s discuss this like civilized people.” The one they’d called Jimin says in a chiding tone laced with relief.

Jungkook doesn’t hear if anyone else speaks. His head is spinning again. He feels the world tilt on its axis before he hits the deck, out cold.

 

Jimin turns to Yoongi, his hip fins brushing against Changkyun’s bare arm, causing him to shiver.

“He thinks I’m a mermaid,” he says, grinning down at the boy’s prone form on the deck and giving his shoulder a light kick with his webbed toes. “Isn’t that precious?”

Yoongi scoffs. “Not sure where he learned about mermaids to think _you_ are what they’re meant to look like, but every mermaid I’ve ever met has been graceful and charming.”

Jimin raises a webbed hand in Yoongi's direction, but Hoseok grabs his wrist, wincing when Jimin’s scales scrape against his bare palm.

“Let’s at least take him to the crew’s quarters, hm?” Hoseok drawls, bending down and gripping the fainting boy beneath the armpits to haul his upper body up off the wood. “Some assistance, if you please?”

Taehyung bends to grip the boy’s ankles, water dripping from fine fabric as Taehyung’s long fingers wrap around his wet uniform trousers. “I haven’t felt material this fancy in years. Maybe we should raid a navy ship, Yoongs.”

Yoongi leans up on the tips of his toes and swats the back of Taehyung’s head. “We aren’t getting anywhere near a navy ship, imbecile. We don’t want the navy to know the Black Tear even exists.”

Jimin scoffs in the depths of his throat, tossing strands of his wet hair back from his face in that way he often finds himself doing on land. “You know I loathe to be the one to remind you of this, Captain, but everyone knows the Black Tear exists. They know of  _you_ quite well, in fact.”

“No thanks to you.”

“Technically I had nothing to do with--”

“What’re we gonna do with him, Captain?” Changkyun asks, holding the crew quarters door open so Taehyung and Hoseok can haul the human boy down the steps and lay him down on a free hammock.

He looks so young like this, dark natural hair laid flat on his forehead, a bit frizzy as it dries in the humid cabin air. The bridge of his nose is tall and curves down at the tip, his mouth is small and pink, and Jimin has never seen anyone like him. He’s always been around people ethereally beautiful, around creatures so sublimely powerful, gorgeous and terrifying that he takes things like this for granted.

Even humans like Tae, with his criss-crossing branches of lightning scars, has a magic to him. A power in his human veins that no one understands, not even Jimin, who’s already seen so many unbelievable and unfathomable things. He’s only known magic _born_ , not magic _bestowed_.

“We can’t take him back,” Taehyung says, and they’re all still staring at the boy like he might somehow vanish or burst into flame. Perhaps he's a bomb.

But he’s the most-human human in the room. Everyone on Yoongi’s ship is a little bit unnatural. That’s why Yoongi took them in in the first place, Jimin included. Though Jimin would say he’s technically the most natural creature aboard the ship.

As he, of course, is born from the sea.

“I won’t keep a prisoner on my ship,” Yoongi says, pinching the bridge of his nose to ward off the migraines he often gets when he’s asked to make hard Captain decisions. Which isn’t very often, since everyone knows to only ask Yoongi for his opinion in the most dire of circumstances.

As First Mate, Hoseok tends to make most decisions for him. And Yoongi trusts him to do so.

So everyone turns to Hoseok.

Hoseok, subsequently, looks to Jimin. “You said the ship was in tact?”

Jimin nods.

Hoseok sighs, looking torn. “I don’t want the navy looking for us, thinking we’ve kidnapped their little rabbit baby.”

“They don’t even know if he’s alive,” Jimin says, flapping his hip fins against Taehyung’s hand to make him flinch and giggle like a human child. “What’s a rabbit?”

“It’s like a rat but bigger, and it hops and has huge ears and buck teeth,” Taehyung whispers, and Jimin’s face crumples into an ugly grimace.

“That sounds horrifying.”

“No they’re super cute. _You’re_ horrifying,” Yoongi retorts gruffly. “I won’t hold the kid against his will.”

“But we’re so close to the next port. Can’t we just… take him with us? And then after the port we’ll take him home, safe and sound?” Taehyung whines. “You know Holly needs a bath with actual soap and not boiled yucca, and we can get him new rawhide bones and everything. Don't you want that Captain? Holly will go rabid soon without new rawhide bones."

“Holly would not go rabid, but I suppose you have a point. We’re certainly much closer to port than we are to the kid’s old ship.” Yoongi groans and drops his face to nudge it into Hoseok’s chest, and Hoseok makes a face as he wraps his arms around him and rubs the small of his back.

“There, there, Captain, it’ll all be over soon. Just pop into port, make our deals, in and out, and everything will be fine. The kid didn’t drown, we get our goods, and then we return him to his government owners,” Hoseok murmurs, still making exaggerated faces above Yoongi as he holds him, enjoying this moment of the Captain's ignorance.

“What if he wants to stay?” Taehyung mutters, poking the sleeping boy’s tan, slightly scarred cheek. It indents beneath his finger, and Taehyung coos.

“Why the bleeding fuck would he want to stay?” Yoongi cries, wheeling around, at the same time Jimin chokes out a gurgling laugh and says almost in unison: “Who would choose to stay _here_?”

Jimin and Yoongi turn to glower at one another.

“You have a problem with my ship, little goldfish?”

“With my tail I’m _meters_ longer than you, and _yes_ I do have a problem with your ship,” Jimin snips, gesturing around at the cabin. “It’s disgusting. It smells like raw human odor, and the last time you ate food that wasn’t canned beans and fish was _months_  ago. You all probably have scurvy, and need a desperate washing.”

“Welcome to being a pirate,” Yoongi spits. “No one requested your presence here. No one especially asked you to drop this t _hing_ on my boat like some cat presenting its newest kill.”

Jimin reels back, chin drawing in toward his chest as he attempts to school his expression, attempts to rein in the external rise of fierce scales and talons and fangs. “I’ll return the human right now and tell him exactly who had him while he was missing.”

“I’ll call the coast guard and alert them to the presence of malicious supposedly-mythical sea creatures.”

Jimin and Yoongi continue glowering at one another, stepping closer and closer until, but Taehyung and Hoseok step between them, pushing lightly at their chests.

But it’s no matter. Yoongi and Jimin have been fighting for much longer than they’ve known Taehyung and Hoseok. Much longer than some little dispute over an even littler human.

Jimin has never told Taehyung the story of how he met Yoongi. He knows Taehyung is aware of how far back their acquaintance goes, but Jimin and Yoongi have an unspoken rule to leave the story just that: unspoken. And a small, nervous and bitter part of Jimin doesn’t want Taehyung to know for more selfish reasons.

Because Taehyung is sunlight as it filters bright and pure beneath the surface of the ocean. He is that moment when the rays and the water first touch. It’s a bit clumsy, when the sunlight dilutes itself to reach below, but it’s pure and warm and just right.

And Jimin is the part of the sea that isn’t meant to be seen. The part of the sea that sunlight usually doesn’t reach. And if that means he has to keep forcing himself to the surface, bones cracking and scales sloughing off into the rough wind atop the ship...Jimin’s willing to go there.

And Yoongi is willing to let him.

Which is why Jimin flops onto a free hammock and holds his arms out for Taehyung. “Hold me, please.”

Yoongi snorts. “I’m going to sleep. Wake me up when the kid is conscious. Actually, never-you-mind that. Hoseok, you’re in charge of the kid. Don’t wake me for any reason at all.”

“What if we’re being raided? Bombed?”

“No,” Yoongi replies monotonously, striding out the crew’s quarters and up onto the deck to enter his own captain’s quarters. They can hear the sound of his heavy door slamming shut.

Taehyung flops down atop Jimin in the hammock, their bodies swaying the thick fabric as it rights itself under both their weights. Taehyung nuzzles in close to Jimin’s neck, nose pressed to the sharp, gritty scales there, but he doesn’t flinch at all. Just breathes in the scent of salt water and sighs contentedly.

Hoseok falls into his own hammock and huffs up to the ceiling. “What’re we going to do if he’s a murderer? A lunatic?”

“He’s not,” Jimin replies, not entirely sure where the words are coming from. “He’s good. I just. I can tell.”

Taehyung sits up a bit and stares down at Jimin in the way that churns Jimin’s stomach acids. In fear of what Taehyung will see in his expression, Jimin yanks Taehyung’s head back down to his chest and begins running his fingers loosely through Taehyung’s wild, tangled hair.

“How do you know?” Taehyung whispers against the shell of Jimin’s ear.

“Something in the universe wanted me to spare his life,” Jimin murmurs, craning his head to watch the boy’s hammock swing gently with the motion of the ship. “The sea is quick to take life without question, but I was called to spare him.”

“Hm,” comes the hum of Taehyung’s deep voice against Jimin’s skin, and it shivers through him in a current. “You know I trust you, Chim.”

“What a foolish thing to say.”

Taehyung is already asleep, breathing deep and even with his weight heavy and comforting over Jimin’s in the hammock. The air is still and humid and stifling around them, and Jimin’s skin  _itches_ furiously with the desire to dive back down into the dark water, surround himself with cool and dark dark dark emptiness.

But Jimin can’t help but want to stay. In the pirate filth, waiting for a small, insignificant human to wake. He has things he wants to ask the boy. He wants to peer inside his mind to see if its as innocent and bright as his young, handsome face.

He wants many thoughtless, imprudent things, and he’s always had a problem with self control.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find us on twitter: @likesatellitez and @necroticnymph


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